Halloween
by carimasali
Summary: Remus and Sirius think about Death and James.


_Another Marauders one-shot, this time a bit of a sad one. Don't expect pranks or mischief, but mourning and lots of why's. There's mentions of death, Azkaban and family baggage. Nothin graphic, nothing explicit.  
_

 _Not edited carefully. I just loved it the way it was, and it's also a bit late too._

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 **Halloween**

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It was Halloween, and they had both been drinking. They distantly heard Molly potter around somewhere, but she knew to stay away from them tonight. The children were at school, and since then the house had been eerily quiet. Remus thought he knew what growing up here must have felt like for Sirius, but he dared not touch the subject, because Sirius - oh, Sirius was not in a good mood today.

Remus didn't understand why Dumbledore insisted on keeping Sirius in this house. He knew what this place meant to him. Sirius and this house had history, as dark as the name of the family that had once lived here. When Sirius left at sixteen (fifteen and eight months to be exact) he had thought, expected, to never come near that house again. Remus wished it had been so, because this house was dark and gloomy, and it seemed to bear heavily on Sirius, suck on his spirit like vampires suck blood.

It didn't help that Remus wasn't around that often to distract his old friend. And the rest of the Order kept their distance, afraid to be victim of one of Sirius' moods.

Azkaban had changed Sirius. Remus had always thought he knew him at his worst, but he had been wrong. Now he knew. At least he thought he knew. Remus didn't trust himself anymore to know with certainty what was and what wasn't. But Sirius had always had a wild, a cruel spark within, but before... before Azkaban this spark had been mostly dormant. Remus knew his family still haunted him. In this house it was worse. He wondered if his friend would ever be free from them, but then he asked himself, was anyone ever really free from their family?

 _If only James was here..._

Remus' heart gave such a strong turn he thought it would burst from his chest. 14 years... That was a long time. Not long enough to forget.

But it was Halloween, and if there was any day to remember the dead and mourn them and wallow in regrets it was today. And Remus, oh did he have regrets.

He missed James. That was easy to admit. What was not was the fact that... Remus had failed him. Failed in every way a good friend should not.

Had he not distanced himself from his friends, from the Order, during the war? Back then he had said to himself it was for their protection, but now he knew it had been for selfish reasons. All the times he had cancelled on James and Lily, Sirius and Peter and Marlene McKinnon. That one time he had cancelled on Peter: had he wanted to confess in what trouble he was in, that he was the spy for Voldemort? That one time James had asked if Remus wanted to come by to see Harry, why had he said, _no_? Why, why, _why?_

James would have stood by Sirius, would never have believed, despite the evidence, of him being capable of betrayal and murder. Remus had believed the evidence. Remus would have cast the first stone.

This train of thought followed another: James had trusted Peter implicitly. Remus hadn't, Sirius hadn't. _Why_ hadn't they said anything? Why didn't _Peter_ say anything? If he had just said how afraid he was, if he had come clean that Voldemort was after him, had gotten to him, they - no, _James_ , would have helped.

But it would have crushed him.

Remus gulped down another glass of brandy. The burn gave his mind a bit of relief, but the tears still burned in his eyes.

Sirius growled low beside him. His eyes closed, head downcast and dark, beautiful hair spilling down his face, a flush spreading on his cheeks from the alcohol. Remus didn't dare say a thing. He didn't want to say a thing.

"What a week..." Sirius mumbled.

"It's Tuesday, Sirius," Remus said softly.

Sirius snorted and raised his head. His grey eyes were a bit dim, but clear nonetheless. "It feels like ages. This whole year feels like ages."

"You won't have to stay here forever," he tried to comfort him, but Sirius shook his head with slight contempt. For Remus or the house, Remus wasn't sure.

"Not up to me," he murmured. "Or to you either."

He had meant his words to hurt, but Remus was beyond any feeling that night. He only chuckled and took another sip from his refilled glass.

"True..."

"I don't know..." Sirius sighed, shook his head to clear his thoughts. "… why you keep trusting Dumbledore so... implicitly... he..."

Remus looked up, warning Sirius with his eyes. "Y' know I won't let-"

"You hate any criticism against Dumbledore, I know mate, I know," Sirius said. "But... as the greatest wizard of all times he could've made _any_ house as the base, but he had to choose..." His face darkened, "... _this one_."

"Well you know, ancient spells and all that..."

"Bullshit. You say that 'cause you're not the one stuck here like a prisoner! Fucking fuck you know!"

Remus stayed quiet and continued to twirl the drink in his glass. His head was throbbing and his lips were dry and his eyes burned, but thank God, not from tears anymore.

What day was it? Oh right, Remus almost forgot. That day the death of two people ruined the lives of four people. He chuckled.

"Y'think he knew?" Sirius suddenly asked.

Remus turned his heavy head and the world blurred for a moment. "What?"

"That I loved him," Sirius whispered, voice so low, Remus shouldn't have been able to hear him. But he did; the words echoed in his head, scarred themselves in his mind to be repeated and worked upon forever.

Remus swallowed. He needn't ask who Sirius was talking about. "Of course he knew," he whispered.

"I never told him. At least, I can't remember a time I did."

Remus licked his lips. "You didn't need to tell him, Padfoot. He knew, he knew we loved him."

"Yeah, but I should've told him anyway. You should always tell people you love 'em... even if they know already."

Sirius stood up with a heavy sigh and walked off without another word. He stopped at the threshold, turned, and for a moment Remus thought he wanted to say something, but Remus neither encouraged it, nor did Sirius insist on it, and so they parted ways for that night.

"You knew we loved you, didn't you, James?" Remus whispered at the flames of the fire, but the fire didn't respond, and James was still dead and silent.

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